I opened the door to his dad’s car, leaned in toward Don in the front seat, and noticed immediately that his forehead was oily and an angry red, covered in big bumpy zits at all stages of development. The kid’s face is a real mess. It breaks my mother’s heart to see that beloved baby skin marred constantly, horribly, and I fear irrevocably by scarring that may result.

When we arrived home, the boys opened their Christmas gifts (the ones I hadn’t sent along with them) from us and other family members. Here is Barney, plumber-in-training, in the midst of it all:

Yippee! The lady phoned last night to say she is ready to reupholster the furniture and when can we bring it to her? I can look forward to having the bulky duo out of the upstairs living room (a.k.a. my office) and, in a couple weeks, replacing the floral horrors downstairs.

Along with my morning coffee, I spent some time reading How to Learn Swedish in 1000 Difficult Lessons, a blog kept by an American living in Sweden.